


Wammy's (Haunted) House

by ListeningBoy



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Ghosts, Haunted Houses, Secret Shinigami Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 14:18:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17081897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ListeningBoy/pseuds/ListeningBoy
Summary: Mello had stopped where he was five minutes ago, saying he needed time to prepare himself. Which was what he was doing, psyching himself up for the journey ahead. Because when he said he wasn’t afraid of anything, well, that wasn’t exactly true. He wasn’t afraid of most things, horror movies and creepy tales and stupid fake haunted houses. But he was most certainly afraid of *real* haunted houses.---Written for the Secret Shinigami Exchange with the prompt: Mello and a ghost au (anyone can be the ghost)





	Wammy's (Haunted) House

“Come on, he’s not gonna go in! We’re wasting our time out here, waiting for that coward to admit he’s too scared.” One of the teens in the crowd behind Mello called out, aiming it more towards him than the others surrounding them, who were all eager to see his fear and wouldn’t leave until they’d gotten it out of him.

They all stood together on the long gravel driveway of the famous abandoned building that every child in town knew, even if they’d never had the courage to come out themselves to have a look. Wammy’s House, one time home of the LABB murderer, a mansion-like house that had been left to rot after the man had returned to the place and burned the accompanying  schoolhouse down while classes were in session. No one quite remembered what the place had been. Some claimed it was only an orphanage equipped to teach its charges, others said it was a training school for geniuses, and when they wanted to stir up fear the older kids would say that it had been a mental hospital meant to keep the child menaces locked up. No matter what theory one subscribed to about what it had been, everyone growing up in the town was absolutely sure of what it was: haunted.

It was precisely because of this that Mello was standing at the foot of the front staircase now. Two weeks after Halloween and he’d still not managed to escape the taunts of his classmates who had heard the story of how he’d run from the fair’s haunted house attraction before even getting inside. The stories weren’t true, of course, Mello wasn’t scared of anything. It wasn’t his fault that the man taking tickets hadn’t believed him when he said he was 15, and the place had closed before he could come back with his ID. No matter how many times he repeated this, however, the others just said he was making it up out of shame.

Gabriel was the one to suggest he prove his courage somewhere else. Not exactly a friend, Gabriel was always one to encourage his more reckless antics, and the other children had jumped at the opportunity to quiet his protests. They’d arranged the whole thing within minutes; Mello would be sent into Wammy’s for an hour, going as far into the building as he could. All he had been given was a flashlight with fresh batteries, a digital camera with which he would be taking pictures of the inside of the house, and a heavy borrowed coat to keep away the chill while he was exploring the potentially drafty rooms.

“Time’s running out, Mello!” The same teen yelled towards him, “We don’t got all night, just say you’re done and let’s get out of here!” The crowd murmured to each other, clearly agreeing and eager to hear him admit defeat.

They had good reason to be antsy. Mello had stopped where he was five minutes ago, saying he needed time to prepare himself. Which was what he was doing, psyching himself up for the journey ahead. Because when he said he wasn’t afraid of anything, well, that wasn’t exactly true. He wasn’t afraid of most things, horror movies and creepy tales and stupid fake haunted houses. But he was most certainly afraid of  _ real _ haunted houses.

It wouldn’t, couldn’t, stop him from going in. He wasn’t about to let himself become a laughingstock again. Mello was the toughest kid around, but if he was booted from that place so soon after the last time order would never be restored. So he sat and readied himself and, at the stroke of midnight, as according to his watch’s chime, and with one final look back at the barely lit faces of those there to watch him fail, he marched himself up the steps, took hold of one large heavy handle, and pulled it open. As soon as he let the door go behind him it swung back into place, sealing him in for the next hour, completely alone - he hoped.

  
  


Mello paused in the entryway, waiting for his eyes to adjust, then scrambled for the flashlight when it became clear that it wasn’t the transition to the indoors that was making it impossible to see two feet in front of him; it really was that dark. With the brightness it granted him he was able to see why, as he took a few steps further into the house and swept the beam of light around the small foyer. 

The windows to either side of the door were nearly entirely covered in heavy curtains, all a deep grey in colour, which he hadn’t seen from outside. In fact, he was sure that the curtains had been  _ white _ , and they’d looked much thinner, definitely thin enough to let in some of the moonlight. Perhaps there were two layers and he’d just not noticed? He could check, but… The thought of going near the windows was a little worrying. Right now he was protected, if anything was lurking outside he wouldn’t know about it as long as he didn’t go looking for it. And, the kids would probably try to scare him that way, pretend to be ghosts peeking through the glass, right? Right. So he’d stay away from the windows, so he could win this bet, that was definitely the reason.

Turning away from the front of the house, Mello made his way towards an open hallway at the back of the room. Just through the archway was another leading to a wooden staircase. He contemplated going up but dismissed the thought immediately. While he had a quota of rooms to photograph and the upper floor would probably give him more options to get through quickly he wasn’t keen on testing whether the old floorboards would hold his weight. 

Instead he took the second option further down the hall, a closed wooden door whose handle was missing. It opened easily when he pushed at it, the hinges creaking from disuse. Shining the light around the room it opened into revealed mostly old, aging furniture. Couches, chairs, and tables seemed to have been pushed aside,  leaving the far side of the room empty. The windows here were covered the same way as in the entrance, save for one which would have been located at the side of the house. That one had only the white curtain, and indeed it was sheer enough as to let in the light of the moon, which illuminated part of the contents of the ‘empty’ floor beneath it. Mello walked towards that space, maneuvering through the tight spaces between pieces of furniture and keeping his flashlight trained ahead of him. The room was large but half the room had been cleared to make room for what had been put there. Which was, for some reason, toys.

The floor in that area was slightly higher, and that seemed to be because it was layered with dominos, dice, and blocks across nearly every inch. Some sections were even more elevated, while the majority was completely flat, at least the ‘ground’ part of it. More materials, mostly legos and other connecting blocks, had been used to make buildings, what looked to be a whole town with houses, shops, and at the center the biggest structure seemed to be a town hall. Toy cars and small figures were positioned along the indistinct roads throughout the scene.

Mello reached down to take one of the people from the closest street, feeling a shiver from a sudden breeze as he touched it, which gave him pause as he realised that until then the room had seemed rather unnaturally warm for being in a supposedly drafty house at the cusp of winter. The toy in his hand distracted him from thinking much further on the matter, however, and he decided it was most likely that a sudden gust of wind had penetrated the walls. 

He’s picked up one of the more unusual toys of the bunch. Most of the others were mismatched action figures or very small dolls, while the one in his hand seemed to be some kind of finger puppet, looking to be hand painted, based on the imperfections of the strokes, but well made nonetheless. Though there was some dust he found it looked almost new, still with a bright colour of fresh paint; had someone been setting this up so recently? He couldn’t imagine what the purpose was, or why anyone would want to work so hard in a place people would rarely go. While the toy city wasn’t the prettiest thing it showed an artistic creativity. Mello knew that no one in his class would have the patience, never mind the ability, to work so hard on something like this.

Shifting the puppet to the hand holding his flashlight, he took the camera from his coat pocket. He’d need a picture of the room anyway, and he wanted to be able to show this work to the other children, who would never agree to coming in to see for themselves. 

Backing up a few steps to get it all in the frame, he took the first picture with the flashlight pointed towards the city, then another without it when he realised the contrast of the lighting might make it impossible to see properly. Once the camera was done its work he took a final look at the scene before turning his back to it, ready to carefully go back the way he came through the randomly strewn furniture. But first one hand fumbled with the buttons on the camera, flipping to the gallery so he could see the images he’d taken.

He’d been right about the flashlight, the picture he’d taken was hard to look at, looking bleached out in places. When he flipped to the second picture he saw it was much better, the light of the moon enough to illuminate the room without help. Still his eyes caught on a blotch of white on one side of the small screen, in front of the window that let in the light. It seemed more than just a random flare or error, and he squinted to make out the form he saw in the image. It seemed like some sort of… person? 

As soon as he realised that the shape seemed to become clearer; a human figure, looking to be dressed in white clothing, a little odd for how pale they were but otherwise normal.  _ Normal _ was contextual, though, seeing as how it wasn’t  _ normal _ for there to be anyone else in the haunted house at all, let alone late at night. It wasn’t  _ normal _ to find such a person in a picture when there hadn’t been any sign of them in the room at the time. And it certainly wasn’t  _ normal _ to see anyone whose feet stood in midair, who was seemingly floating without receiving any trouble from gravity.

Mello froze in place, then spun on his heel to face back towards the window. His flashlight was lifted as fast as he could possibly do so, hand shakily holding it out to shine where the figure would be. His quick-beating heart slowed when nothing was revealed. Had what he seen been a trick of the light, of the mind? Was his fear getting the better of him? Just as he was about to accept this explanation, and subsequently hightail it out of there without looking back, his thoughts were interrupted by a voice erupting out of nowhere. Or, not nowhere, but his ears must have been playing tricks on him too, because the sound was apparently coming from the vacant space right in front of him.

“Hey!” The voice was somewhere between feminine and childlike, Mello would guess the latter if this was really whoever he’d seen in the picture, based on their stature. He looked about the room wildly, searching for the source, pointedly ignoring the impossibility that it could be coming from thin air. “Give that back!”

“W-What?” He stumbled over the word, eyes still darting around, “W-Where are you? Show yourself!” A thought occurred to him, and he glared out into the room, “Oh, haha, very funny guys. Thought you knew better than to play pranks on me after last time.” ‘Last time’ being an incident that had ended with more than one bloody nose.

No one jumped out of some hiding place at his call though, and neither did he hear any giggling or other telltale signs that he was being watched. Instead he felt only another shiver-inducing coldness sweep through the room, making the curtains tremble. The voice repeated, louder this time, “Give it back!”

Pushing aside the odd feeling he got from speaking to someone - or  _ thing _ \- he couldn’t see, Mello decided the best option was to play along until he could expose whatever this was that was in the room with him. “Give  _ what _ back?” 

A silent pause followed his words, ended by a reply that seemed calmer at his cooperation. “My toy. Give it back.”

Mello’s hand clenched around the small puppet in his hand, still held together with his flashlight. He hadn’t realised it hadn’t been put back; he wasn’t intending to take it with him, but then neither had he really thought to return it. After placing the camera back into the pocket he’d taken in from, he took the toy in his now free hand and held it out. “It’s yours, you can have it.” Expecting to be instructed to leave it he moved to walk forward to replace it where he’d found it, but was stopped short when instead, from out of the beam of light still pointed toward the window, the pale shape from the picture suddenly appeared.

It came out piece by piece, starting with its head, the rest following, naturally. As it moved closer the area of its form which was illuminated shrunk and somehow the darkness gave it visibility, though it was still quite transparent. Mello’s hands shook, making the light bounce and only enforce what he was seeing, as wherever was untouched by the beam jumped into view as the opposite happened when some part of the body was shone upon, becoming invisible as the light moved right through it.

When it had moved itself to stand -  _ float _ , Mello corrected himself, as he glanced down to see that its feet were indeed not touching the floor as he had initially seen - in front of the shivering boy, the flashlight touched only a small circle across its abdomen. Even the parts that he could see were hard to look at, the edges of the form blurring whenever his eyes strayed from them, with only what he was focused on being distinct. Currently, thing he was focusing on was the hand reach out towards his own, the one that held the puppet tightly. The smaller hand slipped right through his fingers, literally; a touch like ice, it engulfed them with coldness as it formed a tight fist beneath his skin.

In shock at the sight and feeling, and for fear of his hand freezing solid, Mello snatched it back to his chest. The toy didn’t follow, forcing his fingers open as they passed, and as soon as he lost his grip on it, it started to fall. It made it only a few centimeters down, however, before it was stopped; hovering in the air, it jerked in minute movements, pulled back and forth by an invisible force - more invisible than the fist around which it moved, sometimes going through it entirely, but mostly circling around it. When that fist withdrew the toy lagged behind it but followed, stuttering through the air until it was held close to the thing’s chest. It nodded at him before turning around, walking back into the light, where it disappeared again, its presence only shown by the still floating toy that followed its movements. When that toy was carefully placed back with the rest of the model city and released Mello lost all indication of where the thing might be, or if it were even still there.

“Are you… gone?” He asked out into the empty air, half hoping he would receive no answer yet also wary of being left alone without answers as to what had just happened.

He got one answer fairly quickly in the form of a reply to his question, “You’d be able to figure that out yourself if you’d turn that light off.” Slightly embarrassed that he’d not thought to do that himself, he lowered the flashlight from where it had been held aloft and used his thumb to flick the switch at the same time. The room was left in that near-darkness with only the dim moonlight to make it anything but impossible to see two feet in front of him.The place where the thing had ended up was only a few feet further than that, only a step away from where it must have been when returning its puppet to its place.

With the light gone the figure was yet more distinct, more solid than transparent, though it was hard to tell as his eyes were still adjusting to the darkness and its paleness made it only more difficult. It stared at him, not bothering to hide it, so he gave it the same courtesy. A silence that he read as awkward drew out between them for several long seconds, and unwilling to stand in this dark room without something to distract him from thoughts of what it was he was dealing with Mello finally filled it with the first question to present itself to him. “So, um… Are you, like, a ghost?” As soon as the words left his mouth he felt stupid; he’d been trying to ignore the thought, but it was obvious what was in front of him right now.

At first the ghost -  _ ghost _ , he’d have to get used to thinking of it-, um, them, that way, despite his reluctance to admit it until now - at first the ghost only nodded again, and it seemed as if the silence was going to continue to stretch on. Just as Mello was opening his mouth, probably to say something else stupid, they beat him to it with a question of their own, “Why are you here?”

“Ah, well, y’see,” Mello started, “I had to come in here because of these kids…” He explained to the ghost all that had happened over the last several weeks, up until the last half hour or so he’d spent in the house - had it been that long yet? It somehow seemed longer. He’d only intended to say the bare minimum to get the idea across, but once he started he couldn’t seem to stop. Over the next several minutes he told the entire story, including every instance of teasing he had endured before getting fed up and the details of the challenge that had brought him here. All the while they waited patiently, perhaps listening, though it was hard to tell as they seemed to not want to watch him as he ranted, looking instead at their toys with only the occasional glance at him.

When he’d finished the story they returned their gaze to meet his. They watched him where he stood, breathing a little quicker than usual from the lack of pause he’d had while speaking. A quiet moment overtook them, though Mello felt no need to fill this time with speech as he had the others. Raising a hand to their hair, the ghost seemed to think for the few seconds it took to tangle their fingers through a few locks. 

“Those children sound like bullies.” They finally said, “They’ve forced you in here just to prove you have courage that they themselves lack?” They hummed into the air, a soft sound Mello nearly missed, before suddenly moving forward again. If the previous speed they’d taken had been a walk then he supposed they’d basically run to the point in front of him, though he hesitated to call it that when their feet failed to touch the ground or even move much at all in the process. He took a step back at the movement, which had put him nearly nose to nose with them - and that irked him, suddenly, as he realised that he’d be a decent bit taller than them if they didn’t have the advantage of not being confined to gravity. 

“I would like to help you.” The words were breathed into his face, coldness brushing at his cheeks from the chilled air that was, somehow, exhaled from the being standing before him. 

Once he’d taken a moment to blink the shock from his eyes Mello questioned, “Help with what, exactly?”

“With dealing with them, of course.” Mello ignored the urge to challenge them brought on by the snottiness he heard in their tone.

“Dealing with them how?” That probably wasn’t the best thing to be hearing from a ghost. “You’re not going to… kill them, right?”

The ghost’s mouth twisted, in shock or disgust, and they spat out “No!” immediately. “I’m not a murderer! I meant that I could scare them a little, to get them back for forcing you in here because you were scared.” They disregarded the protests Mello voiced in his own defense, pulling back and circling around him to float towards the entryway. In moments they’d stopped where they were, hesitating, and looked back at him. “That is alright, yes?”

Was it? It wasn’t something he’d thought about - yes, he’d planned to antagonise the other kids for driving him to do this, but he’d had pranks in mind, not anything that would scare them back. Though it would be nice to see them terrified of the very thing they’d tried to use against him… “Depends, what did you have in mind?”

With a tiny upturn of their pale lips, the ghost raised their hand towards him, then paused and blinked at their own gesture. Letting it fall back to their side, they instead nodded towards the door and started making their way across the room, which Mello took as an indication to follow. “I have some friends around here who I’m sure will help, we can have something set up quickly.”

“By friends, you mean more ghosts like you?” It wasn’t surprising that there would be more of them, it just hadn’t occurred to him. How many more were there? Were they watching now, as invisible as this one had been?

“More ghosts, yes. I know a few ghouls, but I don’t suppose they’d be appreciated in something for this.”

“Yeah, probably not… Wait, there are ghouls, too? Like, the little demon things?” He received no answer as the ghost continued on their way, apparently content to leave him behind. Cursing, he struggled to push himself through the piled furniture fast enough to keep up with them.

Luckily, they did wait for him in the hall, so he wasn’t left behind. As he was led further into the house he realised he had yet to introduce himself, and furthermore he didn’t know anything about the ghost other than that that’s what they were. “If we’re going to be doing this together, don’t you think we should know each other’s names?” He questioned. When he received no reply other than a short glance from the other, he continued regardless. “Well, my name’s Mello, if you want to know.”

Again, he got no answer for a long moment, and he was about to accept that this ghost was not at all the talkative type, when he caught a quiet whisper that wasn’t quite loud enough for him to understand. Noticing that he was trying to listen, the ghost cleared their throat (Mello wondered what the use was for someone who didn’t really  _ have _ a throat, per se), repeating themself just slightly louder. “Near. My name is Near.”

Smiling encouragingly, Mello nodded politely. “Nice to meet you, Near.”

“Likewise.”

Outside, the crowd had grown restless. A large group had already left, citing angry parents, and the rest were nearly ready to go themselves. Only a few were planning to stay until Mello came out, it seemed, while the others were anticipating that he’d run out before the hour was up and they’d have plenty of time to get home. By the time the hour mark had come and gone there was only five left waiting, with instructions to report back on how it went the next day at school.

“How long’s it been now?” Gabriel asked nervously, looking to the one among them who had been put in charge of tracking the time. They pulled out their phone and reported that it was 1:30; half an hour past when Mello was supposed to be back.

“He probably ran out the back.” Morgan, the boy who had been teasing Mello before he went in, hadn’t let up at all. He’d grown quieter the closer to the end of the hour it got, but now he only had more fuel. “We should just go home, there’s no point staying here when he’s long gone by now.”

Gabriel glared at the other boy, and was about to give him a piece of his mind, but one of the girls beat him to it. “Oh, God, what if he’s hurt? Or stuck in there somewhere?” They’d all been trying to keep that out of their minds, but now that it had been said out loud they eyed each other warily. “Do y’think we could get in trouble for sending him in there?” She asked.

Blanching at the thought of being responsible for someone getting injured, Gabriel quickly took charge before the others could convince themselves to take any rash actions. He bundled his coat closer to himself and began climbing the steps to the building, calling over his shoulder for the rest to follow. “We’re not leaving him in there to freeze to death all night if he is hurt. We’ll check around to see if he’s still inside and get him out if he is.”

The group hesitated, and it was Morgan who first spoke for them. “You’re kidding, right? You want us to go into  _ there _ , what, do you think we’re crazy?”

“Didn’t realise you were scared, Morgan.” Gabriel taunted, “Even Mello got through the door. If he’s a coward, what does that make you?”

Growling, the boy made his way up the steps himself, pushing Gabriel aside when they met. “I’m not a coward!” Pulling the door open, he looked back at the last three kids. “You chickens coming or what?”

Cautiously, the rest followed the two boys, glancing around as if they would find themselves attacked at any moment. They assured each other in whispers that they’d stick together, to ensure they’d be safe against whatever might be hiding inside.

In the darkness of the bedroom Mello had to squint to see, doing his best to avoid knocking anything over as he followed the ghost through the doorway. Apparently the upper floors were still strong, holding his weight with only slight creaking in places from weakness, and he was able to climb the stairs to the place that Near had readied for them.

The room was tiny, with hardly enough space for the bed and dresser that it held, leaving just enough space for him to walk through to the other side. In the center of the house, it had no windows to let in light, and he’s turned off his flashlight so he would be able to see where the ghost was while they moved. This left the only light source a hole in the floor; one board had been partly pried from its place, leaving an opening that lead to the ceiling of the kitchen. It was from here that they planned to watch the spectacle that would occur below.

Together they crouched down, ready to wait patiently to see the fruits of their labours. This entire plan hinged on some of the children coming into the house, and the thought that they might choose not to worried Mello, but he had hope that even if they didn’t care to check on him for his sake they would want to prove his loss of their bet.

In silence they sat, watching and listening for any sign that the others had followed him in. Minutes ticked by, each one passing like an hour in Mello’s mind, and soon his mind was numbed by boredom. His thoughts were soon wandering, and he welcomed the distraction, sure he would be prodded back to reality when it was time.

Near hadn’t been lying at all about his friends; there were apparently quite a few more ghosts ‘living’ in the house. Most of them had never actually been inside the house during their life, but they felt themselves welcome to make it their home in death. All of them were children, the oldest he had met being merely 16. They wouldn’t all be helping, indeed Near had spent a large part of their time downstairs simply spreading the word that there would be living people roaming around so that those who wished to could hide. The ones that were part of this were those that Near claimed he was closest to.

There were only three of them, and one wouldn’t be participating. The young girl was against frightening them, but, foreseeing this, Near had given her a job that would keep her away from the operation. She was an artist, with an interest in almost all media, so she had been given the opportunity to spend the night experimenting with his camera, with the condition that she also capture the rest of the pictures he needed as proof of this night.

Of the other two, Mello would only get to see one in action, but the other’s part had been described to him. The boy would be the one to chase the children into the kitchen from wherever they were found, pushing them to run in fear using a mixture of monster sounds, played from a nearby speaker system and computer which Mello had refrained from asking the origin of, and the highly reflective goggles which he’d worn, which would create shining red orbs in the dark halls that towered some feet above the head of a human. When questioned on how scary this would really be they were assured of the power of good jump scares.

The sudden creak of the door pulled Mello out of his thoughts, and he reflexively crouched down lower at the sound. Beside him Near had done the same, actually sinking slightly into the floor, as if prepared to slip right through to the room below if there were any danger. 

Outside was as dim as in, the room remaining as dim as before, but after so long Mello’s eyes had become accustomed to the darkness and so quickly was able to move from his hidden position to peek out over top of the bed. On the other side the door had been cracked open, just enough for a head to push through. The face he saw there was still having difficulty seeing into the blackness that surrounded them, but Mello was able to recognise them instantly, the voice that accompanied it seconds later only confirming what he saw.

“Mello? You in here?” Gabriel called from the door, voice kept at a normal volume that was like shouting in the room that had been so quiet the past long minutes. 

Mello held a hand up to indicate to Near not to leave, then pushed himself up to stand fully in sight. The other boy smiled as he caught the movement, but before he could speak again he was admonished in a whisper, “Shh! Keep it down!”

“What for?” He asked just as softly, instantly picking up on the urgency in Mello’s tone. The response he got was a simple wave of the hand, urging him forward. He slipped inside, shutting the door behind him with a careful push. Moving closer gave him a glimpse of the space further inside, and he caught sight of the shape of another person on the floor. “Who’ve you got there?”

With such little light Near’s body looked nearly completely solid, and without knowing to look for it the slight transparency was unnoticeable. They waved in greeting, then again he was being beckoned forward by his friend, who then dropped silently to his knees.

When Gabriel had joined them he was met with a finger held over his lips, stopping him from asking more questions in favour of letting Mello ask his own. “Are there any others with you?” A nod, then a finger pointed towards the ground in response to “Upstairs with you? Or down?”

A smirked played on the other’s face as he leaned in close to say his last words. “We set something up for them down there. Keep your mouth shut and you can watch with us.” Nodding quickly, Gabriel settle himself down next to them, a grin of excitement showing off his eagerness at seeing what they had planned. 

They only had a few minutes to wait before it began, starting with a shrill shriek that rang through the house. It was followed by several others, and then shouting, hard to decipher due to the walls but clearly an attempt at communication as they were called back and forth. 

Soon the group came running through the door into the kitchen. Immediately it slammed behind them, making the smallest boy jump. They learned as soon as they tried to leave that the only other door was stuck closed, and upon trying to turn around found the same of the way they came.

Above them, from the hole in the ceiling, three pairs of eyes took turns peering in to watch them. Giggles were stifled behind hands, each shushing the other every few seconds.

The children below had only enough time to begin to struggle with the door before they were interrupted by a long scrape. It was followed by another, and then the soft click of a lock. The other door crept open on its own as they watched it with wary, frightened eyes.

From the opening stepped the final ghost, the eldest. In each hand he held a knife; the scrapping was heard again as he ran one along the other in a slow drag. Deep red blotches stained his clothes, the area at the bottom of his sleeves still wet enough to drip down his arms. With his back hunched, a crooked smirk, and the slight translucency of his body, the image of an otherworldly being was easy to affect. 

Beside him Mello heard a gasp, and though he’d already seen the boy before and knew of the reality it still shook him a little to see it for real.

“More visitors?” The boy drawled, “I suppose you’ll want to join your friend?” One hand reached out, the knife point swinging towards them, landing facing down the nose of the biggest there - Morgan, who let out a strangled whimper, eyes wide.

At that moment the handle of the door from which they’d come finally budged, and it swung open behind them, the boy who’d been clutching it falling backward at the sudden movement. He scrambled to pick himself up, ending up at the tail end of the group as they all ran out, their screams still echoing until they reached the entrance once more; when it closed with a thud all noise from them was cut off, only the barest of sound able to be heard as they raced towards their homes.

From down in the kitchen a clang was heard as the boy that was left behind dropped the knives on the counter. He took a moment to return his posture to its normal, slightly less hunched position, smiling falling from his lips. One hand travelled to his mouth, him taking a moment to lick at the red liquid it was adorned with - strawberry sauce, as he’d informed Mello beforehand - then resting his thumb against his lip. The other raised in salute when Near called a thanks from above.

The other two in the bedroom had dissolved into laughter as soon as the coast was clear, falling back and gasping for air between long periods of giggling and chuckling. Exclamations of “Did you see her face?” and “He screams like a banshee!” abounded, and it took some time before they were able to compose themselves once again, still occasionally snorting at a memory and with wide smiles on their faces. Near hadn’t engaged with them in this foolery, but even they had an upturn of the lips and a sparkle in their eye.

They would have gladly sat there for much longer, basking in the knowledge that they now had a story to tell to any- and everyone they saw when they returned to school, if they weren’t interrupted by Gabriel’s sudden realization of the time. “Shit, it’s so late, my mom’s gonna be furious!” Clambering to his feet and through the door, he took no notice that Mello wasn’t with him until he was well down the hall, and was about to double back when he emerged out of the open door. They met up and continued down to the stairs, Gabriel giving one last look back and asking “Isn’t your friend coming?” 

Mello shook his head, not giving any further explanation, and the other boy dropped the matter, not wanting to question where this child he’d never seen had come from and why they weren’t going back. He’d had enough awkward conversations to make him wary of such a subject.

At the door in the foyer stood the young girl Mello had lent his camera to, with it clutched in her hands. At the sight of him she perked up, smiling brightly, and held it out to him. “I got the pictures you wanted, and some really nice ones too!” She beamed at the grateful thanks she got in return, then continued, “Would you please have them developed so I could keep them? Pretty please?”

“Sure thing, Linda,” Mello agreed, “I’ll come back next week with them.”

She cheered, “I’ll tell Near you’ll be back, then!” Bouncing in place, she said her goodbyes to him, not giving him a chance to return the farewell before allowing herself to launch into the air, melting through the ceiling with ease, to the shock of the boy beneath her who had yet to see this before and was left with his mouth gaping, staring up at where she had been.

He was dragged out by his hand, not thinking to protest until they’d reached the bottom of the steps, then pulling back and crying out in shock, “What  _ was _ that!?”

Mello grabbed him again, this time by the forearm, pulling him along down the gravel drive. “It was just a ghost, don’t be such a wuss.” He scoffed. “Honestly, you guys are scared of everything.” 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Where you can find me:  
> Main Tumblr: http://listeningboy.tumblr.com  
> Death Note Tumblr: http://the-real-death-note-victim.tumblr.com  
> PillowFort: https://www.pillowfort.io/ListeningBoy
> 
> Original Works: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LOTW


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